


A Table Set for Three

by Pastel_Teacups



Series: The Way to Revenge is Through His Heart [2]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Dinner, M/M, Murder, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-02
Updated: 2015-09-02
Packaged: 2018-04-18 14:06:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4708706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pastel_Teacups/pseuds/Pastel_Teacups
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It isn't just a dinner. It's a celebration. And Will is the guest of honor.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>----</p><p>A dinner between friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Table Set for Three

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of my series, "The Way to Revenge is Through His Heart," but can be read on its own.

“It’s beautiful.” 

The words are whispered, too quiet for their guest to hear. Behind him stands Hannibal, sharing the scene for a moment. “Isn’t it?” 

Will’s words aren’t meant to parallel those spoken that enlightening night, but they do. This, though, is different. This has been planned, thought out, discussed between stitches and kisses and blood-red water. 

Hannibal had set the table, and seeing it for the first time is like a dream. Everything is set beautifully, everything positioned just so. 

It isn’t just a dinner. It’s a celebration. And Will is the guest of honor. 

He couldn’t be more flattered. 

Bedelia, when Will moves his eyes to her, looks almost like she’s a part of the decor. She doesn’t look at either of them, keeps her eyes resolutely forward and her face decidedly blank. Will knows that she’s distantly remembering Hannibal helping her into the beautiful dress she’s wearing some time ago, knows she’s repressing a shiver. 

After a moment of silent admiration, Hannibal sets a gentle hand on Will’s shoulder to rouse him into movement. He does so slowly, making gentle steps around the table to reach his place. 

When he moves around Bedelia, though, he’s blinded by a white hot flash of pain and drops to the floor.

Hannibal’s kneeling at his side in seconds, eyes full of fire concealed by concern as he gently turns Will over to inspect the source of his pain. When he forces himself to sit up Will sees it, too: an oyster knife, buried to the hilt in his thigh. 

“That was quite rude of you, Bedelia.” Hannibal says firmly, taking one of Will’s hands in his own before using his other to pull the knife out. Will gives a wince, and a moment later Hannibal’s once-pristine pocket square is ruined by blood. “Were you aiming for a major artery? I’m pleased to inform that you missed.” 

When Will brings his eyes up to Bedelia, she looks just a little pleased. “I was aiming for pain.” 

Will smiles, almost bitterly. “I’ve had worse.” He says, breath ragged as Hannibal’s hands press as gently as possible into his wound. 

“Not your pain.” She retorts simply, meeting his eyes with the last fires of defiance. 

Hannibal’s eyes change, and after a moment he wraps a strong arm around Will’s waist and helps the man struggle to his feet. “Perhaps we should take an arm next, Bedelia? I would have no reservations removing it without anesthetic.” 

Bedelia smiles, holding out her right arm. “By all means.” She offers. Will grips his hand as Hannibal sets him in his seat, and the man refrains himself from doing just what she’s daring him to. 

When Hannibal doesn’t lunge at her with a knife, she lets her arm fall back to her side. Begrudgingly, he continues on with their dinner, only after ensuring Will would be okay without him tending to the wound. Will watches, sees the restraint it takes to lean over Bedelia and pour wine into her glass without setting the bottle down and snapping her neck. She takes a delicate sip, eyes straight ahead. 

Hannibal begins serving the meat, setting easy portions on first Will’s, then Bedelia’s, then his own plate. The meat is steaming, and after Hannibal seats himself Will can see he’s paying close attention to Bedelia’s reaction, if she’ll have one. Will turns his head, too, curious as to what she will do. 

She looks at them both evenly for a moment before picking up her fork and knife, cutting a small piece of herself before taking it into her mouth to taste. 

After a prolonged moment of chewing, she swallows. “A little dry, if you ask me.” 

Will takes a tentative bite of his own piece, knows she is wrong as a flawless taste overwhelms his senses. Hannibal smiles fondly through his well-hidden rage. “I am going to miss you, Bedelia.” 

She doesn’t reply, only takes another small bite. This one she doesn’t chew, only swallows. “I guess we know who Frankenstein’s bride is after all.” 

Will smiles quietly, taking a small sip of his wine. 

Hannibal looks between them. “Am I Frankenstein in this scenario?” 

Will turns to him, eyes fond. The metaphor doesn’t work now, really. Hannibal isn’t Frankenstein. He never had been. They’d been mistaken from the beginning. 

He shakes his head. “No. Not really.” 

They finish the rest of their meal in silence, and when everyone has set down their silverware Hannibal picks up a large carving knife and moves over to stand at Bedelia’s side. He offers the blade to Will. 

“Care to do the honors?” 

Will mulls it over in his mind, thinks about how it would feel for a moment before he gets to his feet and takes limping steps forward. He reaches out and takes the knife from Hannibal’s outstretched hand, watches the prideful look in the older man’s eyes as he hands it over without objection. 

Bedelia watches the two of them, refusing to give even an inch of a reaction. “Who holds the devil let him hold him well.” She murmurs a second time, quietly, before the knife slides across her neck and leaves a bright red line contrasting against pale skin. 

The blood sprays out, hitting Will and Hannibal as they stand there watching Bedelia’s body go limp with death. When the blood finally stops Hannibal moves around her and stands close to Will, watching his fingers uncurl from the knife’s handle and letting it fall onto the table. His hand is covered in blood. Distantly, Will wonders if Hannibal is proud. 

Slowly, Hannibal tilts Will’s head up with his fingers, and Will meets his eyes with no reservation, no reason to hide from him. Hannibal regards him innocently only a moment longer before leaning down to press his lips tentatively to Will’s. 

It’s chaste for a fleeting moment before Will’s lips part, before a bloodied hand comes up to Hannibal’s shoulder, ruining his suit jacket. It doesn’t matter. Neither of them care as Will steps closer, feeling Hannibal’s arms around Will’s waist and drawing him even further in. 

Another battle won. Working together rather than apart seems to be in their best interests. And Will couldn’t be more pleased at the fact.

**Author's Note:**

> As requested, a Part 2 to my 5-Part Series! I hope you liked it, and as usual Comments + Kudos are very welcome! 
> 
> I also have a [Tumblr](http://little-floral.tumblr.com/), if you'd like to come say hi!


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